


The Bookworm and the Jock

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-06
Updated: 2009-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1933899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Oliver helped Percy pull the Wood out of his arse, or, how sometimes, opposites attract.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bookworm and the Jock

**Author's Note:**

> Written as my submission to the 2009 Percy_Ficathon.  
> Thanks to Emiime for running the fest and to my beta readers, Eeyore9990 and Sevfan, without whose sharp eyes this would have made a lot less sense. My recipient asked for: Percy/Oliver Wood, Percy and Penny as friends, Weasleys in general, Quidditch team, family issues, the Burrow, post-war, the Ministry and desk sex. *g* I did my best with those requests, I hope he enjoyed it.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing you recognize is mine.  
> 

~

The Bookworm and The Jock

~

The report of the liaison for the International Association of Quidditch wasn’t strictly Percy’s purview now that he was Principal Secretary to the Minister, but Percy couldn’t help but be interested. Quidditch affected Oliver, after all, and what affected Oliver affected Percy, even if he tried to tell himself that it was only indirectly. The downside to having a prominent position in the new regime, however, was that people got nervous when you called them in.

“Was there something else, Mr. Secretary?”

Percy looked over his glasses at the sweaty, nervous man in front of him. “No, nothing else, thank you, Muldoon. This will be fine.”

Muldoon smiled tremulously and unsuccessfully tried to stop wringing his hands. “Are you sure, Mr. Secretary? The report was a bit rushed, I would be happy to spend a little more time redoing it--”

“No need,” Percy interrupted. “If there are any questions, I can Floo Mr. Mostafa and review it in depth with him, and the Minister can certainly do the same if he feels the need.”

Moldoon’s hands hovered above the document. “But it’s not a very polished report,” he muttered. “I didn’t realise that there was an automatic charm that would transport it here to your office at a specific time even if it wasn’t complete--”

“That innovation has been in effect for several months.” Percy smiled coolly. “We’ve found it to be a very effective mechanism to obtain timely reports.” He moved the parchment closer so that Muldoon wouldn’t sweat on it.

“Are you _sure_ you wouldn’t like me to tweak it a bit to make it clearer--?”

“I believe I’m fully capable of reading the report on my own, Muldoon,” Percy said, voice dry. “That will be all.”

As Muldoon continued to dither, Penny intervened. “You can go now, Marcus,” she said, pulling him inexorably towards the door. “If the Secretary requires any clarification on anything in the report, trust me, he’ll contact you.”

“Yes, but--”

Penny shut the door in his face and spun to look at Percy. “At this rate, you’re going to owe me hazard pay.”

A smile quirked Percy’s lips. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“You mean you don’t know?” Penny shook her head. “You have a reputation as a reformer, Perce. Don’t you remember the shambles the Ministry was in right after Shacklebolt became Minster?”

“Of course.” Percy frowned. “I was there. We cleared out a lot of bad people.”

“Mm hm.” Penny nodded. “And you were ruthless about it.” She held up a hand when it appeared he was going to interrupt her. “That wasn’t a bad thing, mind; it’s just made people wary of you, especially since you’re one of the youngest Principal Secretaries in history.” She inclined her head towards the door by which Muldoon had exited. “Case in point. When you start looking into things, people get nervous.”

“He was a bit over the top.” Percy frowned. “There’s no need for people to be afraid of me. I’m not expecting to find anything nefarious now, I’m just interested in the state of International Quidditch.”

“I’m just trying to explain why it seems to have made him nervous.” Penny smirked. “After all, he doesn’t know that your interest has nothing to do with an investigation and everything to do with a certain, very handsome, international Quidditch star.”

Once again cursing his fair colouring that made any embarrassment plain on his pink face, Percy looked away. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said primly. “If you mean Oliver Wood, we’re just close friends.”

Now grinning, Penny winked and said, “Of course you are. Anyway, people aren’t _afraid_ exactly, they’re just...careful.”

Percy pondered this, not sure if he liked the idea of being, if not feared, avoided. “I see. So, is there something I should do about it?”

Penny shrugged. “I think it’s good for your reputation, actually.” She smiled, her dimples showing. “And it’s good for _my_ reputation, too. As the secretary to such a tough boss, I get a lot of respect around here.”

“Is that how you ended up dating my brother?” Percy asked, eyebrow raised.

Penny sniggered. “Someone had to take Ron under their wing.”

“That’s not all you took him under, apparently,” Percy deadpanned.

Now Penny was blushing. “It’s not like that! Well, actually, it _is_ like that, but--”

Percy shuddered. “That’s more than I ever wanted to know about anyone in my family’s personal life,” he muttered. “Can we change the subject, please?”

“It’s your own fault since you brought it up,” Penny chuckled. “And would you prefer that we talk about Oliver, your close friend, the very sought-after international Quidditch star who’s due in from Sweden this evening?” Her eyes softened. “You need to make an honest man of him.”

“We don’t have that kind of an arrangement.” Percy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “A long time ago we agreed that we were just friends.” He held up a hand as Penny began to reply to that. “Yes, we’re...close, but nothing more.”

“Well that’s a stupid arrangement!” Penny had her hands on her hips. “Did you make it while drinking or something? Just tell him how you feel.”

“You know I don’t drink.” Percy made a show of opening the Quidditch report. “Now, you may not have work to do,” he said, “but I do.”

Penny sighed. “Fine. Well, since it’s five, I’ll be on my way.” She grinned wickedly. “Don’t work too late, and have a good weekend.”

Percy nodded, only looking up after the door had closed. He glanced at the clock over his Floo and frowned. Oliver wasn’t technically _late_ , but he had said to expect him between five and seven and it was five now...

As if his thoughts had conjured him, the Floo chose that moment to flare green and Oliver stepped out a second later. He was sweaty, still clad in Quidditch leathers, and the normally fastidious Percy had never seen anything more mouth-watering in his entire life.

“Miss me?” Oliver said, dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor.

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s right, you were gone. I vaguely recalled something about you coming to visit this weekend--”

Oliver grinned. “Prat.” Two long strides brought him to Percy’s desk, and a moment later Percy was being dragged out of his chair and into Oliver’s arms. “Forgotten me already, have you?” he mock growled. “I guess I’ll just have to remind you who I am.”

Percy moaned as Oliver thrust a thigh between his legs and rocked against him. “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” Oliver replied, his lips wandering over Percy’s jaw as his fingers fumbled with robes and trousers. “As soon as we won the match with Sweden, all through the bloody press conference they always make us have afterwards, all I could think of was how long until I could bend you over this desk and shag you silly.”

Shuddering in response to Oliver’s words and touch, Percy sighed. “I had a horrid time concentrating during my meetings all afternoon,” he gasped, arching into Oliver’s hand. “I kept imagining this. You.”

“You like it when I take you right here on your desk, don’t you?” Oliver had managed to uncover Percy’s cock and began stroking. “You know, Perce, I think you’re a closet exhibitionist.”

“I--” Percy closed his eyes as Oliver surged forward and snogged him. When they broke apart, he tugged Oliver’s hair to pull him down. “What were we discussing?” he whispered.

“Who cares?” Oliver hissed. A moment later, Oliver pulled his wand out and Banished their clothes into a pile across the room. “There, much better.”

Percy lay back against his desk. “Welcome h-- back to England,” he whispered.

Oliver smiled down at him. “Thanks. It’s good to be back.”

A noise in the hallway made them both glance towards the door. Oliver grinned and flicked his wand, warding the room. “There, now we can get on with my warm welcome.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you really _are_ an exhibitionist...”

Percy blushed. “Don’t be daft,” he muttered, although his cock did twitch at the thought of someone inadvertently walking in and seeing them. He bit his lip. From the look on Oliver’s face, it was clear he’d felt Percy’s reaction, too.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver murmured. “I know I wouldn’t mind if someone saw us. I bet we look brilliant together.”

Percy pondered this. Oliver had always been popular in school while he...hadn’t. He often wondered why Oliver was with him. Oliver was...built. The years of Quidditch had made him fill out even more than he had in school. No one ignored Oliver when he walked into a room; he had presence. _No,_ Percy concluded. _I bet we look odd together. The bookworm and the jock._

“Stop that.” Oliver was staring down at him, face serious. “Whatever you’re thinking isn’t happy, so just stop.” He ran a finger over the furrows in Percy’s forehead. “Let’s just enjoy the moment, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, pulling Oliver down towards him by the nape of his neck. It was always difficult to remember that they were just ‘friends with benefits’ at moments like these. When their lips were almost touching, he whispered, “So what now?”

“Now, we fuck.” Oliver smiled. “And I’m in a hurry so... _Lubricious!_ ”

Percy gasped as he was magically lubed and stretched. “Not the proper way,” he managed.

“I’ll do it properly later, I promise.” Oliver held Percy’s legs open and positioned himself. “Right now I just have to--”

Percy bit his lip as Oliver slid in. He was tight, and it still took some effort to relax and let Oliver in. He actually welcomed the burn, though, as it took the edge off his own arousal. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his legs around Oliver’s waist.

“You okay?” Oliver panted.

Percy nodded. “Mm. Just give me a minute.”

“God, I’ll try but--” Oliver cursed under his breath as Percy shifted slightly. “Fuck, you feel--”

After relaxing some more, Percy slid his hands down Oliver’s back, clutching his backside. “I’m ready. Move!” he demanded. “Want you.”

“Yes,” Oliver hissed, and the next few moments were filled with heavy breathing and the thud of books and stacks of parchment hitting the floor. “I’m...messing up...your desk,” Oliver gasped as he moved in and out of Percy. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Percy said, bucking up to meet Oliver’s thrusts. “I can -- yes there! -- reorganize it later.”

“I figured.” Oliver leaned his elbows on the desk as he continued to plunge in and out of Percy. “I’m going to have to...try harder...to make you forget your...filing system.”

“What filing system?” Percy wheezed. He could feel his bollocks drawing up and he arched harder.

Oliver was groaning now, and, as Percy watched him, his face contorted and he shuddered through his orgasm, his head dropping onto the curve of Percy’s shoulder.

Through it all, Percy held him, and as soon as he was able, Oliver slid a hand between them. At the first touch of Oliver’s hand, Percy moaned and, as Oliver pressed kisses to his neck and murmured dirty things, he also stroked Percy. It only took a couple of tugs and then Percy, too, was shaking and coming, spurting between them.

Oliver collapsed, and for several moments, Percy enjoyed his weight pressing him into the desk.

“I hope you weren’t reading anything too important,” Oliver murmured. “Because I think it’s messed up now.”

Percy stiffened. “Actually--”

“Shhh!” Oliver chuckled. “I bet a Cleaning Charm will have them as good as new in no time.”

“Then it’s fortunate that I am excellent at cleaning charms, isn’t it?” Percy replied, voice dry.

Oliver chuckled as he began to peel himself off Percy’s sticky skin. “Also shows that I know how to pick ’em.”

Percy winced as he got up off the desk. “You know, I may be getting a bit too old for desk sex.”

“It’s still fun, though, isn’t it?” Oliver was grinning at him, and Percy, unable to resist that look, smiled back. “Oh, that’s interesting.”

Percy blinked. “What is?”

Peeling a piece of parchment off Percy’s hip, Oliver said, “Looks like someone’s doing well.”

“Hm?” Percy glanced down at the parchment, a moment later recognising the International Association of Quidditch report he’d received earlier that day. “What do you mean?”

Oliver pointed. “Well, looks as if someone is skimming off the top. See? The numbers don’t match.” He whistled softly. “And whoever this is, they’re doing _very_ well.”

Percy’s eyes widened and he grabbed the parchment, perusing it closely. “You’re right,” he said. “Good catch, Ollie.”

Oliver smacked his arm. “Don’t call me that,” he mumbled.

“It’s a cute nickname. It’s adorable that your sister calls you that.” Percy had already reached for a quill and was jotting notes. “And I’m serious. That was well spotted.”

“My sister is an annoying little bint.” Oliver shrugged. “And you’d have caught the error.” Grabbing his clothes, he started to get dressed.

Percy smiled. “Yes, eventually, if I had been concentrating. You’ve a great eye for numbers. When you get tired of Quidditch, you could consider a career in accounting. The Ministry needs accountants.”

Oliver made a face. “Ugh, bite your tongue.” He smirked. “Or, better yet, I’ll bite it for you later.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Percy said. He shivered in the cool air of the room and a moment later, Oliver wrapped robes around him.

“Enough work,” Oliver whispered, his hot breath on Percy’s ear making him shiver for a new reason. “Let’s go ho-- back to your place so we can have a shower. You smell like a Quidditch locker room.”

Percy shook his head. “ _I_ smell?”

“Sure.” Oliver nibbled on the lobe of his ear. “It’s because I rubbed Quidditch sweat all over you, of course, but still--”

“All right. Just help me pile the rest of the books and parchment back on the desk and we can go.”

They managed to get Percy’s office reorganized in minutes, and Percy, after gathering his own clothes in his arms, gestured to the Floo. “After you.”

“You just want to check out my arse,” Oliver chuckled as he moved ahead. “Not that I mind.”

As Oliver disappeared in green flame, Percy sighed. He wanted more than Oliver’s arse, much more. He wanted _everything_ that Oliver had to offer, but if sex was all he could get, he would take it.

Biting his lip, he stepped into the Floo, finally feeling as if he was going home now that Oliver was there.

~

Oliver woke up slowly, as he always did. He had a moment of disorientation as he tried to remember which city he was in, but his vivid memories of the night before returned almost immediately and he relaxed. He was home.

He stretched, yawning as his hand groped for Percy. Who wasn’t there.

Oliver cracked an eye open and peered at the indented pillow on the other side of the bed. “Bloody morning people,” he muttered.

He could hear someone moving about, dishes and pots clanging, and he smiled. While Percy was annoyingly awake and efficient in the morning, he did make brilliant breakfasts.

Oliver’s stomach rumbled and he groaned, stretching the kinks out of his back and other places before swinging his legs over the side. Rumpled sleep pants were on the floor by the bed so he pulled them on and padded out to the kitchen.

As he walked past the living room, he heard a voice. “Percy?!”

He stuck his head through the door. “Hullo?”

Molly Weasley, her head in the Floo, blinked up at him. “Oliver?” She smiled. “Are you visiting again?”

Oliver blushed. “Erm, yeah. Hello, Mrs. W.” He folded his arms across his chest. Maybe she wouldn’t notice that he was suspiciously half-naked?

“It’s good to see you, dear. Could you pass a message on to Percy for me?”

“Of course.” Oliver nodded.

“Let him know that we had to move dinner on Sunday up to four instead of five since Ginny has a game and Harry has some sort of Auror thing earlier that day. I swear, with the amount of time the two of them put into their jobs it’ll be a wonder if they ever have children--”

Oliver tried to get a word in, but Molly wasn’t stopping. He finally gave up and just nodded at the appropriate times.

Several minutes later, when she finally seemed to realise that she’d been telling him a lot of personal details about her family, she blushed. “Oh, but you don’t want to hear about that. Just let Percy know about dinner, will you? And you’re invited, too, of course. I hope you’ll be there.”

“Er, sure, thank you, Mrs. W.”

She beamed. “Arthur will be so pleased.”

The Floo closed and Oliver shook his head as he wandered out of the room. He was still dazed, which had to account for why he ran smack into Percy. “Oof!”

Percy’s arms came around him. “Still mostly asleep?” he teased. “I was just on my way to snog you awake.”

Oliver yawned. “I can always go back if you like,” he offered.

“Nice try.” Percy slipped an arm around Oliver’s shoulders and began steering him towards the kitchen. “I made breakfast, come on. You need a cuppa.”

Oliver smiled. Percy really did know him, and, predictably, the world did make a lot more sense after his first few sips of tea. “Oh, I almost forgot, your mum Flooed.”

Percy dropped his toast. “She did?” He looked alarmed. “Did she see you like that?”

Oliver looked down at himself. “I guess.” He shrugged. “She seemed okay with it, though. She said to tell you that dinner on Sunday is being moved up to four and she invited me. I said yes.”

“You did?” Percy seemed surprised.

“Yes. Is that all right?” Oliver sat back in his chair, watching Percy’s face carefully for clues.

“It’s fine.” Percy stood up abruptly and began putting his dish in the sink.

“Doesn’t seem as if it’s fine,” Oliver said to Percy’s back. “I don’t have to go, you know. I can Floo and tell her that I have another engagement--”

“No.” Percy exhaled and, shoulders slumped, turned around, leaning against the sink. “My family loves you. You should come.”

“And I love them.” _And you._ Oliver coughed. “So why do I get the feeling that you’d rather I not go?”

“That’s not it at all.” Percy ran a hand through his hair, distracting Oliver momentarily. “I’d rather they not...assume things about us.”

“Assume things?” Oliver stood up and prowled around the table before ending up directly in front of Percy. “Like what?”

“Like thinking that we’re in some sort of relationship.”

Oliver quashed a spear of hurt and quirked an eyebrow. “We aren’t?” he asked, leaning in. “What are we in, then?”

“You know what I mean.” Percy’s breaths were coming fast, and Oliver smiled.

“No, I don’t.” Oliver turned his head and nuzzled Percy’s skin. “I thought we _were_ in a relationship. A torrid, hot, brilliant, sexy relationship.”

“If my mother knows we’re together she’ll--” Percy moaned as Oliver licked the edge of his jaw, “--she’ll pressure us to set up house together, bond, all those domestic things we agreed we didn’t want. She’s already been dropping hints about me settling down.”

“Mm.” _Sounds brilliant to me_. Oliver chuckled. “Mothers do that. Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I can handle it.”

“I’d rather you handle _me_ ,” Percy gasped, grabbing Oliver’s hand and dragging him out of the kitchen back to the bedroom.

Oliver smirked as they tumbled onto the bed. Before his senses became too overwhelmed with the heady taste and touch of Percy, he plotted. Enlisting Percy’s family in his plan to make him see that they had a real relationship seemed like the way to go-- “Oh, fuck!”

Percy, his lips wrapped around Oliver’s prick, batted his eyelashes and _hummed_ , and Oliver lost all coherent thought for a long time.

~

“So that looked like a hard fall you took in the match against Germany last Sunday,” George said to Oliver. “Twenty feet, wasn’t it?”

Percy’s head snapped up, but he didn’t say a word. Everyone had been quite civil when they’d arrived for dinner. His parents had greeted Oliver like a long-lost son, and even George, who Percy had figured would be the most obnoxious, had been pleasant.

Just about everyone was there with their spouse or almost spouse. Hermione and Charlie, Ron and Penny, Harry and Ginny, George and Angelina, even Bill and Fleur. The place was packed, and yet, as far as Percy could tell, no one was sniggering behind their backs or making snide comments about them being a couple. Everyone seemed genuinely happy that he’d brought someone home. Ginny had actually pulled him aside and congratulated him on his good taste. As the visit had progressed, Percy had become more relaxed. Until now.

Oliver shrugged. “Yeah. I ached a bit afterwards, too,” he said, grimacing. “But the Healer said I’d be as good as new.”

“It’s a rough life, though,” Arthur observed. “The life of a professional sportsman isn’t easy.”

“Or a sportswoman,” Ginny piped up.

Arthur smiled and patted her hand. “True, dear. But Harry is a successful Auror. You can always leave the team, you know. It’s not as if you have to work.”

As Ginny and Arthur argued good-naturedly, and Harry wisely stayed out of it, Percy leaned close to Oliver. “You were injured?”

Oliver turned to look at him. “Yeah.” He shrugged and looked down at his plate. “I’m fine, though.”

Percy knew he was being unreasonable, they hadn’t made any long-term commitments after all, but something in him was boiling over at the thought that Oliver could have been hurt and he might not have been notified of it. “When were you planning to tell me?” he snapped, the words squeezing out between clenched teeth.

Oliver blinked, clearly surprised. “I honestly didn’t think about telling you,” he said. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

For some reason, that made Percy even angrier. “Didn’t think at all, more like!”

At that outburst, the rest of the conversations around the table ceased and everyone stared at Percy. “Oi, are you okay, Perce?” Ron asked.

“I’m fine.” Percy was stabbing at his dinner. “I’m just fine.”

“Right,” Molly said, voice bright. “Anyone for dessert?”

Percy pushed away from the table. “Actually, I do need to speak with Oliver,” he managed, grabbing Oliver’s arm. “Excuse us.”

As he dragged Oliver away, he could hear Penny say, “About bloody time.”

He pulled Oliver up the stairs and, after looking around in a desperate bid for some privacy, spotted the broom closet on the second floor and opened the door, shoving Oliver in before crowding in himself.

It was close inside, and Percy had to straddle Oliver’s leg. Oliver didn’t seem to mind, however, if his half-hard prick was any judge.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Oliver hissed.

“Wrong with _me_?” Percy was shaking with rage, and, pointing a finger at Oliver, he began poking him in the chest for emphasis. “You fell off a fucking broom last week and you didn’t even owl me? What if something had happened to you, you bloody idiot? What if you’d died? Do you know what that would do to me?”

Oliver’s mouth dropped open. “What the-- Percy, you wanted this to be a casual relationship, remember? Friends with benefits don’t owl each other every day, they don’t tell each other every little thing. They fuck!”

“Is that right?” Percy growled. “Well let me tell you something, Oliver Wood. You are more than a friend who I fuck, you are the man I love, and I want to know about it if you almost die, you unbelievable prat!”

“You what?” Oliver asked, voice quiet.

Percy, fire still coursing through him, snapped, “I love you!”

“About fucking time,” Oliver replied, pulling him close. “And I love you, too, you idiot!”

“You do?” All of the air left Percy’s lungs at once.

Oliver nodded. “I do. And now that we’ve admitted that to each other, maybe we should leave this closet and tell your family? Although, to be honest, I suspect they already know.” He sniggered. “You’re loud when you’re angry.”

Percy blushed and hid his face in Oliver’s neck. “It’s the red hair,” he whispered. “There’s no escaping genetics, I’m afraid.”

“I do love it that you’re passionate about me,” Oliver replied.

Percy moved back and their lips touched and then it was all groping and snogging and heavy breathing. Despite it being a tiny space, things would have progressed further, except someone chose that moment to rap on the door. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable in there, you two. Molly’s expecting you for dessert.” Charlie sounded amused.

“Dear God, kill me now. Do you think we could just Apparate home from here?” Percy said, mortified.

Oliver shook with laughter. “Something tells me they’d just show up there.”

“They would,” Percy sighed. “Right. May as well get this over with, then.”

They emerged, blinking in the light, only to find the hallway empty. Hand in hand, they walked downstairs and, while everyone was smiling, no one said a word.

For a moment, Percy thought his family had actually learned a bit about decorum. Naturally, George, who, after Molly had served everyone pudding and tea, proved him wrong. “You honestly thought you were just fuck buddies? Are you two bloody blind?” he blurted.

Percy, who’d just taken a sip of his tea a second before, spewed it everywhere. As everyone laughed, Molly began yelling at George, who simply winked at Percy and Oliver and took the lecture.

It broke the ice, though, and when, minutes later, everyone retired to the living room to relax, Percy and Oliver ended up cuddling on the couch, and no one seemed to think anything of it.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about the fall,” Oliver whispered as the conversation turned to Hermione’s latest research into dragon biology.

Percy pursed his lips. “I hate to think of you getting hurt,” he said. “Have you considered what you might want to do if you gave up playing Quidditch?”

Oliver nodded. “I don’t want to do that, but as I get older I know I have to find something else to do.” He grimaced. “There aren’t too many old Quidditch players, after all.”

Percy, mind racing, said, “You know, I think I know of just the thing. You remember that International Quidditch Association report you saw? That gave me an idea--” And as he explained, Percy saw it the moment Oliver understood.

“That’s brilliant!” he said, throwing arms around Percy’s neck.

“Oh yes,” Percy heard Penny say from across the room. “Just good friends.”

Percy derived enormous satisfaction from giving her the two-fingered salute.

~

“That was quite the weekend, wasn’t it?” Penny asked as she bustled into his office on Monday morning.

Percy adjusted his glasses on his nose before looking at her over the rim. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Penny shook her head. “You _suppose_?” She placed a parchment on his desk.

After glancing at it, Percy smiled. “That was fast.”

“I think it had something to do with you owling it to the Minister last night,” Penny said dryly. “Something tells me he’s eager to have the scandal dealt with. After all, it’s not every day that a huge international embezzling scheme is uncovered.” She smiled. “Another notch on the belt of the great reformer.”

Percy blushed. “Oliver’s the one who spotted it, actually.”

“Oh?”

As he recalled the circumstances under which Oliver had made the discovery, Percy blushed brighter. “Well, we were, um...”

She held up a hand. “I don’t want to know.” She tapped the parchment. “He was a good choice as Muldoon’s replacement, though. His team doesn’t even seem too upset that he’ll be leaving in the middle of the season.”

Percy snorted. “Well, they wouldn’t raise too much of a fuss, would they? He’s moving into a job where he oversees their regulations and their funding.”

“Point.” Penny was hovering, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Yes? Was there something else?” He jumped when, instead of leaving, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s good to see you happy, Perce,” she whispered. “You and Oliver look great together.”

“Should I be jealous?” Oliver drawled from the doorway.

Penny grinned and, making her way past Oliver, she said, “Not at all. Congratulations on your new job, Mr. Wood.”

As she left, Oliver grinned. “My new job as your intended?” he asked.

Percy smiled. “I think she meant as the new liaison for the International Quidditch Association,” he said. “That other job may be more difficult, though.”

Oliver inclined his head. “I think I’ll be fine. After years of being a jock, I have to be able to handle you.”

“You’ll have a chance to test that theory every day,” Percy whispered, and as they snogged Percy caught a glimpse of them reflected in a window. _Funny, for a jock and a bookworm, we don’t look half bad._

~


End file.
